Bond
by Ala Alba EC
Summary: How do the Servants of Chaldea see their Master?
1. Crown of the Stars

**Crown of the Stars**

* * *

 **Flame Contaminated City**

* * *

The circle was 'drawn' on the floor with a hologram. Mash's shield was put over it.

Fujimaru skeptically pondered.

"Is it okay with this? According to the guide, we need to draw the circle with blood, and we need some sort of catalyst to get the Servant."

Dr. Roman pat her on her head, bearing down at her with a gentle smile on his face.

"While it's true that we need catalyst to summon a specific Heroic Spirit, simply putting an item on the summoning circle is enough to summon a Heroic Spirit even though the connection between them is somewhat farfetched."

"Huh. And why Mash's shield?"

Mash stood up after checking on the circle, clad in her Demi Servant armor. Though calling it an armor was a pretty generous assessment, as her navel is very conspicuously visible from a hole in the middle of her crisscrossing scale mail. What kind of perverted Heroic Spirit did she fuse with?

She turned and came to her Master side.

"A Noble Phantasm is a good catalyst, nevertheless."

"So basically we're gambling with whoever we summoned from the shield." Fujimaru snorted, "I guess it's fitting for us, the scions of humanity on its death thro, to bet everything on some 0,001% chance of summoning a good Servant. We're just that desperate."

"Senpai..."

The chant rattled her tongue like a strange liquid spilling from her throat. Both soothing and frightening, like a close relative that you haven't met in a long time, it passed through her mouth in a pseudo-song. Shut, shut, shut... she had trained to chant it until it was perfect as to not insult the memory of the Director's death. The holographic projection glowed even further and a pillar of light shot out of the entire diameter of the circle.

When the light slowly dimmed, a figure knelt over the shield. A familiar and yet unfamiliar presence, a lot less malice for one, came from the androgynous figure. When she spoke up, her voice was a monotonous drone that clashed with her fair features.

"I ask you, are you my Master?"

Immediately after that, her face softened. As if she understood the situation the humanity was in. Or maybe she understood what kind of meeting they had previously. Either way, she walked up to her Master and offered her hand like an old friend.

"Of course, Artoria."

Fujimaru gripped her hand with a firm handshake.

Maybe their luck was much better than they thought. Or maybe, there was more of that shield than they thought

* * *

 **Wicked Dragon's Hundred Years War**

* * *

Artoria was a model knight. Chivalrous and gentle, strong and firm. A really admirable person. She ate like she had five stomachs, though.

They were in Jula, resting from the constant battles since they arrived in the Singularity. After clearing the forest from hostile enemies, the party had some wyverns roasted on the spit. Marie was excited to taste the new cuisine while Amadeus skeptically poked on the rare meat of the dragon's throat. Meanwhile, the Chaldeans were devouring the meat like a pack of wolves. The steak was slightly tough and there was a tinge of spiciness even though they only put salt on it, but it was very juicy. Fujimaru had to wipe her mouth every time she bit on the steak because her saliva always dribbled down her chin without her permission.

"This is heaven," she moaned, "A heaven in the middle of crisis."

"Searching for a moment of respite is also important, Master." Artoria nodded in agreement, "Just like this steak. Let us eat like kings, my good friends."

The two of them exploded in laughter, while Mash was left slightly flabbergasted. As the laughter slowly died, Artoria stole a glance at her Master. The ginger-haired young woman was again digging into the tough meat like a ravenous beast. Undeterred from the difficulty of biting the dragon spawn's flesh, it was a quite obvious sign of just what kind of person her Master was.

"This is a battle to save humanity," she mumbled, "Our responsibility is indeed heavy, Master."

Fujimaru simply glanced at her from the corner of her eyes.

The two of them didn't sit together in relaxation until after the end of the United Empire's collapse. The entire two weeks was filled with nothing but war at the front line. The traitor of Chaldea had been slain but he gave out nothing about the overarching threat of humanity. It was just a glimpse, but Artoria saw her Master despaired from the disappointment of Leff's unceremonious exist, even just a little.

They met in the common room, four days after they existed Septem, each nursing a coffee cup. While they kept meeting each other at the war council (briefing), it was a different situation than the time they met dressing only in plain shirt and bed head.

"Ah, Master."

"Morning, Artoria."

Her Master yawned widely. When she stretched her arm above her head, the long sleeve of her shirt rolled to her shoulder and Artoria saw her magic circuits still in the process of dimming down its glow. Blue lines that only pulsing only when in use, but if it was still visible when the magus didn't do any magecraft that could only mean the magus was extensively using the circuit previously. Most likely her Master was in the workshop (My Room), strengthening the Saint Graph of the growing number of Servants who answered Chaldea's summon.

She decided to ask about the matter diplomatically.

"Do you sleep well, Master?"

"Not really," Fujimaru peered at her with bleary eyes, "I don't think I get any sleep at all."

"That won't do."

"Yeah, Mash said so too." Again she yawned, "But I have a feeling that the next Singularity would be a hard one."

Artoria remembered from the last briefing.

"Okeanos, right?"

Okeanos Singularity was not an exact place like French or Rome, but instead more of an amalgamation of various sea areas of the world. As the very personification of the sea in the Greek mythology, every sea in the world is Okeanos.

Thus, while the name 'Okeanos' was more identified as the shore where the King of Conqueror was treading on before he could storm the Indian sub-continent by Chaldean Servants, from the information gathered from the time pocket was that it located at the era known as the Age of Exploration. Instead of the age of conquerors and warlords, it was the age of sailors and pirates. Of course, being a Singularity, the uniformed rank of allies and enemies might be slim.

-But knowing the age helped on identifying the currently living historical figure the Chaldea should aid.

But Artoria couldn't guess just what her Master had in mind about it.

"It's a fusion of various sea areas, so it's possible that any kind of sea from whatever era became 'Okeanos'. Vikings, uncharted islands, mythical cities like Atlantis and El Dorado. Are there even sea monsters at the Age of Exploration?"

"Most likely not. While the King of Heroes ushered the decline of the Age of Gods, and by proxy any other Divine and Nature Spirits, it was the reign of the King of Magic that truly cut off the influence of the gods."

"King of Magic?"

"The third king of Israel, son of King David, Solomon the Wise. It was he who brought magic to humanity without needing direct connection with the gods. Because of that, the gods were losing influence over reality, and they retreated to the underside of the world."

Fujimaru pondered at this before asking.

"Was it because you slew Vortigern that the Age of Gods ended?"

"Not exactly. Vortigern was the last threshold (pillar), that single thread that connecting the eras. The shift between the Age of Gods and the Age of Man was a gradual process. Think of it like the unification of Japan; Nobunaga mixed the batter, Hideyoshi put it in the oven, while Ieyatsu ate the cake. Gilgamesh is Nobunaga, Solomon is Hideyoshi, and I'm Ieyatsu."

She then quickly added, "- And about your initial question, It was several centuries between the fall of Camelot and the Age of Exploration, so I don't think there were sea monsters."

"I see."

She slowly sipped her coffee, painfully slow despite it was no longer steaming.

"You know," her Master started, "Before coming to Chaldea, I don't know that there are more of your legend than the Sword in the Stone and the Excalibur. Hell, I don't even know that you're a woman. On that topic, why did you become a king instead of a queen?"

"You mean why I dressed as a man?"

Why indeed? Sometime she questioned it herself, despite the answer was so obvious.

"Kingship was a men's world in my time. Beside... with this kind of body, I can't really protect anything."

"And being a man does? I don't really believe that."

"Yes, it needed some time, but I've realized that. From the beginning, it's not about being a man or a woman, or being a young girl ignorant of everything. Camelot was destined to fall, as it was with all nations in the world. In the end, it was my own shortcoming that caused this."

Artoria stared at her own cooling cup.

"Sometimes, I wonder if I'd never pull the Sword of Selection, just how different the world would turn out to be."

"I would think it won't be the same. The world without you."

The Servant raised an eyebrow. Fujimaru was still absent-mindedly sipping from her cup, not noticing her stare. Nevertheless, Artoria tried to suppress her blush before noticing just what she was doing and chuckled to herself.

"And here I am, trying to comfort you. But I got comforted instead."

"Comforted?"

"Never mind." She said with a snort, "You should get some sleep, Master. Those bags just don't suit you."

"M'kay..."

* * *

 **Mythological North American War**

* * *

Fujimaru always brought five Servants (extras beside Mash) with her to the Singularities, before switching to another set of five after about the halfway mark, though there were exceptions. It was so none of the Servants would be overworked with battles and strained their personal mana reserve. She rayshifted as the second wave of the North America Singularity's Task Force along with Eric Haraldsson, Antoinette, Romulus, and Atalanta.

When she opened her eyes, she came face to face with a woman in red British military fatigue. Her eyes were deep red, regarding her with an absolute professionalism. She searched into her Master's mind's eye and read the information she had gathered about the woman. Florence Nightingale, Berserker...? What in the world?

She decided not to question the strange class arrangement of Servants and decided to survey her surroundings. A dungeon, with the smell of sea very palatable in the air. Most likely the Alcatraz. Why did they need to go to this place when the battle is in the middle of the continent?

As if answering her question, she saw golden dust characteristic to a Servant's dispersing floated in the middle of people hurdling together. A red-haired young woman was cradling an unconscious red-haired young man in her arm, but it was the woman who was disappearing.

Sita and Rama, her Master mind's eye helpfully informed her and she immediately understood. Just as the woman completely vanished in a swirl of golden light, the man opened his eyes. Even after death, the two still could not be reunited. But there was a clear understanding in the man's gaze. He nodded toward the Master, and she answered it with the same resolution.

There was no more time to waste. Even as they traveled to Edison's palace, they decided to have a war council then and there. Chaldea's technology made it possible to have a live transmission with Denver. They were preparing a major battle against the Celtic army. Queen Medb's ability to spawn soldiers was an asset of its own, and that wasn't counting the Third Pandava among their rank. While everyone pretty much agreed that Karna would be his opponent, they would still fight against approximately several tens of thousands strong. Even Edison's infantry soldiers were at their limit of production. Too many had died by the spear of Mad King Cu Chulainn.

Thus, the main foci of the American Resistance would be the Servants. Despite their legend, everyone was confident that Karna would win his duel this time. By separating the Celt into two foci, then separating Arjuna from the rest of the regime before crippling the regime he led, Mebd would suffer a heavy loss before the two regime flanked her and Cu Chulainn in Washington. It was a risky strategy motivated by desperation, resting every hope on Karna to win his battle against his fated rival.

-But the Master had met the two brothers before, and yet she said with a hint of jest nor irony, "Karna will win."

And so, everyone's morale was reforged with her steel-like determination and confidence. The party was sleeping well that night on the way to Riverton.

Nevertheless, not everyone was sleeping. Artoria caught her Master wide awake, battle strategy scribbled on one hand and a roasted rat on another. It wasn't a banquet like in Orleans, but she accepted it regardless when she made herself known.

The Master was making battle plans just in case the 'let Karna handle everything' strategy doesn't work. From killing Arjuna herself, to repelling an ambush from Cu Chulainn, to sieging Washington... Everything that will tip the scale of victory to their favor. After what the Celts had done to Geronimo's party, they had to think of every possible scenario that might play in the battlefield.

"While I thought Rama could replace Karna just fine, he crippled himself with his class choice. Not to mention he had just recovered from Gae Bolg's curse. I can't expect him fight at his best, but if we watch each other's back then we might be able to fend Cu Chulainn or Arjuna off in case of Karna failing in battle."

"Though I agree that playing it safe is a good plan, but I thought you have outmost trust that Karna would make it through?" Artoria said as she bit into the roasted rat. The meat was tough and stringy.

"I have trust in him. But in the end, he's just one man. Beside..."

"You fear that, if Karna falls, Edison would be discouraged."

"His friendship powers him after he was released from E Pluribus Unum (American Dream). And if his friends die, his morale would either shatter from grief or explode out of rage. I don't want to gamble on this one."

"So that's what you were talking about with Madame Blavatsky, pardon if I'm intruding."

"Yeah..."

Her Master spoke with the small occultist with a hushed tone immediately after the war council was adjourned. She didn't catch what they spoke of, but from what she could tell, it had to do with Edison being put in the second army, away from the Servants' battle.

" _I will take care of him. Don't worry, okay?"_

So Blavatsky had said.

Friends, huh...?

As if reading her mind, her Master said out of nowhere.

"Sorry that your reunions aren't that great. Lancelot isn't exactly coherent and Mordred ended up a lot more hostile than I thought."

"Huh? Oh... yes," Artoria intelligently answered, slightly offsided.

"I'll try my best to talk with Mordred, at least. Anyone you want to meet the most?"

"Well..."

 _-I want to meet all of my knights_ , she wanted to say that, but that would be very insolent of her. Her Master was rather infamous of her rage when digging around Singularities for Saint Quartz (Spiritual Core) and catalysts – asking her for 10+ people to summon was just asking her to hate the Round Table. Nevertheless...

"My brother Kay, perhaps? He might be a little rough, but he's a loyal friend."

"I see... I just hope that he won't be _too_ rough."

"And then... maybe Merlin? He's mischievous, but he's very dependable if we can get him as an ally."

"Merlin..."

"Master?"

"No, it's nothing. I just need to check on Dr. Roman's idol site sometime."

The remark left her confused, at least until she finally met Merlin. And Gawain, and Tristan, and Bedivere.

For some reason, her Master left her, Mordred, and Lancelot out of the briefing of the Sixth Singularity. She heard the Singularity would pit them with the Crusaders, but it wasn't a reason to leave them out. Nevertheless, because they were ended up house-sitting, she and Mordred got some time together. The child had since cooled down most of her anger issue so they could at least talk like civilized people. A significant improvement, knowing the last time they met they destroyed the training ground.

When they returned from the Singularity, a familiar face came in front of them.

"My King..."

"Sir Bedivere..."

Then, she heard everything. The shifting in the Humanity Foundation Value. The Singularity's location change. The invasion of the Round Table against the Holy City of Jerusalem. The Lion King.

Her Master had suspected the Round Table would be their enemies and deliberately left them out. Chaldea went and struck the Artoria who had influenced by Rhongominiad, ending the ambition of Camelot. Her Master didn't want her at the front seat when she destroyed the kingdom Artoria once wished the Grail for.

But it was just the way it should be.

"Artoria, can I come in?"

Three raps on her door room were heard before her Master's voice mumbled from outside. Artoria put down her book and opened the mechanized door of her room. Her Master stood slightly, her arm still in sling from the fall she had in the last battle. Artoria tried not to stare, putting on her warmest smile and made way for her Master to enter the room. Quietly excusing herself, Fujimaru sat on the spot on bed Artoria gestured beside her.

As if trying to swallow her own nervousness, Fujimaru suddenly spoke, slightly louder than she usually was.

"I'm sorry."

"... Why are you apologizing? For matter of fact, what are apologizing for?"

"I don't know. But I know, in one way or another, you're going to be angry at me."

She wanted to say no, she wasn't angry. But it wasn't true.

Even against a mere replica, a city that was fated to be destroyed, she wanted to see her kingdom once more. Even risking killing her knights, even risking killing herself, even risking destroying the city with her own hands, she wanted to see Camelot. She was no Cu Chulainn who waved homesickness off as trivial. And when they had one chance to go there, her Master barred her from entering. It was true that she was feeling little resentful of the decision.

But she understood.

"Your commands are righteous." She finally said, "Your feelings are warm and kind. Your kindness touched me, Master."

"Artoria..."

"There's no need to apologize. Because I will always forgive you no matter what. Perhaps, it was I who need to apologize. You read me so well that you feel you need to preemptively say sorry for something that I'm not saying out loud."

"-That why,"

Artoria stood, before kneeling in front of her surprised Master.

"Let me devote everything to you. My sword, my strength, my spirit - everything shall be yours. I shall grant you the mankind's future without fail, I swear it!"

They spoke long and a lot about many things that they didn't expect to speak afterward. What do you like, what do you hate, what do you think of this person, what do you want to wish to the Grail – things like that.

When the last question came, Artoria hesitate only for a moment.

"The time when I searched for the Grail had passed. But... if it's a wicked thing, then I will destroy it."

"Why destroying it? Is it even wicked to begin with?"

"It wasn't always wicked. I fact, I have no doubt the original chalice that holds the Savior's blood was holy. But the Grail that causes the Grail War is not the same chalice, that I'm sure."

"...Did you fight in a Holy Grail War?"

Fujimaru asked, already had an inkling of the situation.

"In some other world, in some other past. The Throne exists above time and space." Artoria sighed, "I fought twice in a same Holy Grail War. In the same world Lord El-Melloi came, where Chaldea does not exist and 2004 Fuyuki Grail War wasn't the first."

"What happened in that war?"

"... Some soul-searching, in a way."

And it made her considering her position in those moments. Regretted, regretting, will regret, there were regrets for each possibility and choice that she might take.

But-

Right now, she was humanity's protector. Even if a nation crumbled, its people would continue on. Even if a culture faded, its memory would never did. As long as the King of Knights remained inside the Throne, people would always remember Camelot.

She was reminded of what her Master said. The world would not be the same without this Arthur Pendragon. Perfect world would be an impossibility, but heroes existed as the testament of humanity's trials. An ever distant ideal, but nevertheless worthy of pursuit.

"-It does not matter right now anyway."

Artoria finally said.


	2. Relic of the King

**Relic of a King**

* * *

 **Eternal Madness Empire**

* * *

A crane feather fan, its handle was made of Chinese bamboo painted in dark brown polish. A dozen black-tipped white feathers lined tight almost like a genuine bird wing. It was an ordinary fan in all possible way.

"Perhaps we should use a trigram furnace for maximum result. We saw him used it, right?"

Dr. Roman suggested from the control room. Fujimaru mulled over it for a moment before shaking her head.

"The trigram furnace is not that iconic of him. We might as well summon Sun Wukong out of it. The feather fan, on the other hand..."

"It's just some ordinary fan you bought from a Rome bazar out of whim. Not exactly a historical item, of which the connection to Zhuge Liang is merely a superfluous detail. How many Heroic Spirits do you think had people fanning them on?"

"Well..."

"The Zhuge Liang we fought in Septem singularity was not exactly the Heroic Spirit," Mash tried to defend her senpai, "I have a feeling that we'll be fine with just an imitation."

"It's not like we have an access to the stone maze..."

"Summoning a Servant without a proper catalyst could cause an unexpected Heroic Spirit. If we don't have a sufficient defense in case of a dangerous Servant being summoned, you might be in danger!"

"Ah, here it comes."

"Ritsuka!"

A pillar of light shot out of the holographic magic circle. When the light receded, a man with long black hair with a too modern clothing knelt. His face was hardened, lined by creases and a frown.

"Servant, Zhuge Liang..." He stopped himself when he saw his contractor was staring hard at him, "What is it?"

"We don't really see eye to eye in Rome, but... just as I thought, you really don't look like a Chinese."

"That's what you have a problem with?" he sighed, "That's right, my real name is El-Melloi II. But the power of the Heroic Spirit has imbued this body. There should be no problem if you need me for the battle."

"Question; why Zhuge Liang doesn't come as himself?"

"He's one of those capricious Heroic Spirit, the one who has too much pride on himself."

"Ah."

The girl sulked. El-Melloi would like to compare her to a kicked puppy, but as a teacher, that trick was just no longer working on him. Nevertheless...

"Work hard as a Master, and maybe you can shame him for not answering to a decent Master."

Her eyes were like those students with high hopes and wishes, ambitious but naive. An innocent child who had no place in the battle for mankind's survival. But maybe that was what humanity need the most – when everything else failed.

"I won't tolerate laziness from you, especially when you summoned me like this."

She could only grinned sheepishly.

* * *

 **Does the Moon Goddess Dream of Dumplings?**

* * *

Ritsuka Fujimaru – that was his Master's name.

A girl who was ignorant of the world of magecraft until recently. A girl who unintentionally stumbled upon Chaldea – or maybe it was Chaldea who stumbled upon her, when she had nothing in mind other than helping her fellow men through blood donation. Perhaps it was fate – that the last scion of mankind was someone who tried to do good even in a small way.

A simple young girl, who was happy when it was a joyous occasion, who was sad when an ally sacrificed themselves. A hard worker and fairly intelligent, but nevertheless a moderate ditz. Reminded him of a student of his, just with less ditziness.

Speaking of a student...

"...Cu Chulainn always says, 'later'."

"Is that so?"

"So, I'm thinking that maybe you can-"

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't think you can do rune magic."

"Then, what magecraft do you think will suit me?"

"It's a trial and error process, especially knowing you have no linage whatsoever to compare of."

"I have a lot of free time."

That one made him raised an eyebrow.

"Really? I doubt that when you have so many Servants to take care of."

"I'm good at making schedules." She shrugged, "So, can you teach me?"

"Well, aren't you annoying?"

"Well, I heard you're used to it."

He stopped his pen at this, his notes of the Singularities so far was forgotten.

"What do you mean, you heard it?"

"Doesn't really matter, just doing some research about you. Something, something Reines Archibald and such."

From her answer, it was clear that she did more than just 'doing research'. Despite being in a different parallel world, it seemed there were things that always turning out the same. It might not the same branch, but having to deal with that girl (witch)...

"Reines? I'm Zhuge Liang, I don't know who you're talking about."

"Is that so? Then you won't mind if I-"

"Wait!"

He shouted before he knew it. Now, the girl was staring at him with those large eyes of hers, almost like saying, 'all according to plan'. He was backed into a corner with that slip.

"If I teach you, you won't dig the Association?"

"Of course."

That was a lie, though mostly out of circumstances. Nevertheless, it was the beginning of their sessions. Fujimaru was a diligent student, more than most would be. She came on time and would not leave until the designed recess. When not studying, she left to dig up random things in Singularities to do the craft. It was a constant that rooted him into the familiar routine he had accustomed with.

Until he asked a certain question...

"Why did you want to learn from me?"

They had sit inside the ever growing library of Chaldea. Not far from them, Andersen cooped himself in the corner. El-Melloi almost heard the small author perked his ears to eavesdrop a potential juicy gossip. He pushed through.

"You have Roman and da Vinci. You can learn from them."

"...Dr. Roman is the head medic – he can only teach me first aid. While da Vinci..." she searched the way to explain, "You know how geniuses (madmen) can make a calculation, but often cannot explain it easily to the people because it just... came to them? It's the same way."

Of course he knew about geniuses, and thus, he was sympathetic. In the world where jack-of-all-trade is very valued because of the turbulent situation forcing each man relying only on their skills at hand, specialized geniuses were less the worth of someone who can survive long after the first blow dealt. Someone who can fairly search, cook, and preserve food was likely to live through the Incineration of Human Order than someone who could only whip out gourmet-level banquets – not that he'd like to insult Emiya's skills.

The girl was just trying to expand her repertoires. It was just there were too much natural smartasses (geniuses) in Chaldea, and she knew she wasn't one. She was a different kind of smartass (monologuer).

It was the last time he asked questions about her motivation to learn. After all, it was obvious. She thought it was her responsibility to make sure everyone lived through their trials. And it was his responsibility to prepare her for that moment. That moment when everyone's fates were on her hands. Or perhaps that moment had already came.

But for some reason, Chaldea seemed to attract a lot of sidetracking despite the end of humanity already on their front yard.

A woman claiming to be the Star Hunter Orion had asked (demanded) to have an impromptu moon viewing festival. An oriental ritual where one hammer the dumpling dough with hammer and then eating them under night sky.

He had no interest of oriental customs. His opinion of Japan was limited on their ability to churn out video games from whatever genre they could think of. He would order the games through mail and play them with moderation. Purchasing the pre-order bonus if it existed but never really wear it with enthusiasm of a fan. Writing an honest review in the costumer's corner. It was his habit, mostly done out of respect of a certain person, but it was his tick.

So, when everyone came out to hammer the dough and eat the snack, he cooped up inside his quarter playing games the Chaldea staffs had snuck up without the late Director's knowledge. Animusphere was still a somewhat traditional mage linage who looked down on modern technology unless it was convenient, thus the number of smuggled games was no more than 15. But now Animusphere was dead and one of the head staffs was a 16 year old not-mage, Chaldea's regulations became significantly much looser. You can play with your gadgets out in open and no one would bat an eyelash.

In the television screen, a sprite of a flying shrine maiden was frantically dodging thousands of bullets. Just as he completed the third stage, his Master snuck into his room.

"Not enjoying the festival?" he asked.

"I have enough dango to last me the entire year. Well, there's the time when Altera bisected Caligula, but mostly dango." His Master then leered at him, "Why are you not in the festival?"

"I have low opinion of Japanese rites."

"Is that so?" she droned, more interested with his game, "Say someone who play danmaku."

"If you have no business here, then get out."

"It's not like I have business outside either. Everyone just too drunk to be useful as a conversation partner."

Again she glanced at his game.

"Why are you playing this on TV when there's a computer? Isn't the game is actually PC exclusive?"

"The computer lags pretty badly. I can't get a good feel of it when the frame rate is 30 fps."

"What kind of potato is that computer ad why Chaldea has it?"

She walked over to said 'potato', examining it like some kind of alien life form. Turning it on, she fiddled with it. A familiar background music was heard from the speaker.

"It's not that bad if you adjust the pixelation. Does it have a graphic card?"

The lack of answer was an answer by itself.

"You don't understand. Then why are you even playing games?"

"It's mostly a tradition."

"The Clock Tower has a tradition of playing video games?"

"No, it's just me..."

She really is an open book, he thought. Despite very obviously wishing to press him, she did not. Minding privation of others, never wanting to offend her people, a model nice guy. Someone who knew that not everyone was like her and decided to be considerate, you felt that being considerate toward her curiosity was only fair. She put her heart on her sleeve with so much sincerity that 'I have to be honest with her' was the only correct way to interact the sole Master of Chaldea.

So, when she decided to put aside her curiosity, he tried to distract mostly himself from blurting out anything unnecessary. He was just that kind of person.

"You seemed to know much."

"Not really. This kind of thing is pretty basic."

"Then..."

He hesitated a little, thinking on how Tohsaka had failed him, but then quickly shrugged it off. Fujimaru was not like Tohsaka.

"Ever visited Akihabara?"

"Of course." She glanced at him once, then coyly added, "You say that like there's some kind of taboo about visiting Akihabara."

"It's just-"

"Just because that place is the sacred ground of the otaku, doesn't mean that's the only reason to go. Akihabara still a paradise, a Mecca for those who search for electronic appliances. There's no shame."

"It's a shame for me." El-Melloi finally grumbled.

"Ah. A magus' pride."

"Yes, a magus' pride. It might be strange for you, but it's the truth."

While it seemed that Fujimaru was not listening, with her starting to check the CPU, she was conversing perfectly with him. Just a mindless chatter about Akihabara and games and how stupid the Mage's Association for shunning humanity's progress. Fujimaru installed graphic card from one of the drawers into the PC and El-Melloi could not be more grateful. And yet...

"Can you please stop playing with my hair?"

"Why? It's a sin to not playing with long hair like yours."

"You can do that with some other guys. You're disturbing my concentration."

The extra stage was a continuous stream of bullets, every single kind the game had in disposal. What remained were small gaps that almost impossible to see and slip through except for the wonky hitbox the main character's sprite seemed to have. Nothing but rainbow and fireworks flashing on the screen, a surefire trigger for those who unfortunately epileptic.

Fujimaru ignored him.

"When I'm done with the braids, I'm gonna make you a crown."

El-Melloi sighed.

* * *

 **Fate Accel/ Zero Order**

* * *

He opened his eyes after his Saint Graph (body) finished reconstructing.

His Master was there, sitting backward on a chair with her chin propped on.

"Welcome in the world of living, Professor."

"Yeah."

He stretched his arms over his head before patting his chest, where Lancelot had run him through with his sword. No wound remained, not even a scratch. He had never died under Fujimaru's command before, unlike a certain Archer, so he had never experienced just how death was for Chaldean Servants.

Destruction of Spiritual Core of a Servant should have spelled certain doom for them – and yet for Chaldea, it was a minor inconvenience. FATE was not only a Servant summoning system, it also registered whoever Fujimaru had summoned into molds (containers) and continuously updated the record with each progress they made with themselves. Just like with baked goods, all she had to do is pouring the batter (mana) into the mold and the Servants would come out exactly like they had been the last time they were alive as a Chaldean Servant. A system that ensured absolute efficiency of the contracts, where stupidity meant little as long as they had enough Servants to throw to the enemies.

The fact that Fujimaru was the only one remaining from the 48 was a blessing – there might be more Einzbern (arrogance) or more Matou (cruelty) in Chaldea's amidst had the bombing wasn't happened.

He almost forgot the cutthroat world of the fourth Heaven's Feel (Holy Grail War). Forgot how mages operate. When almost a year was spent in nothing but their singular aim to restore human's foundation, where each personnel tied to their peers and causes with their sense of camaraderie in their own way, Clock Tower's politics and power play had no place here. Chaldea was like a promised land where no matter what kind of strife that hit them, it stood like a mountain.

He sighed.

"Now you saw me in my 'prime'. Not very hyped up, huh?"

"I never doubt that you're a good person, Professor. I think you are a very brave man, even back then. Even when it seemed impossible, you fought with us."

"In a way, we are different people – just like Bathory and Carmilla."

His Master shook her head.

"I think you missed the memo, Professor. Not even Liz herself denied that she and Carmilla are the same person. Nevertheless, she tries to not turning the same way the best of her ability. Simply because she wants to." She shrugged, "The way you are now, I think you already succeed. You're no longer that insufferable brat who thinks of himself more than he actually is. But I don't think you're that different; you're still a brave man."

He bit the inside of his mouth until he tasted copper. Now he understood just how this girl capable of leashing countless Heroic Spirits. She didn't patronize him of being 'that insufferable brat' – she commended him of being a brave young man who fought against the Black Grail. She didn't criticize him for being a bitter adult – she thought of him as someone who had matured from his adolescent bravado.

Neither leaning toward good nor evil, accepting everyone unconditionally even their faults. He even bet that no matter how many times she was betrayed, she would take that traitor in after a fight because she always saw _that_ thing that made a hero heroic. A cause that she was molded into following, the Origin. He mulled over it before abruptly standing up.

"Follow me."

The halls of Chaldea had since became a home. He walked her into his room without much words. Hidden inside a drawer he custom-crafted into one of his room's wall, he pulled a small wooden box. When his Master looked inside the box, she immediately knew.

"I once said that I will only follow one man."

"Yeah, I already have an inkling. Since the first time we met that Singularity."

"I always thought that I can't let just anyone stand beside him. Not even you. But then you fight and fight and fight, and I only feel shame for being so selfish. He's the kind of person who so overbearing that one person can never take him on."

"The kind of person who thinks your life-turning moment is just another one of his escapade."

When he thought about it, it was foolish. This girl summoned Gilgamesh, and Nero, and Romulus – yet her brain had not yet melted from how insufferable they were.

"Nevertheless, I will still follow him." He pushed the box to her hands, "And I want you to follow him too, if you're so allowed."

"..."

She said nothing, only observing that small scrap of cloth.

"Wanna see me summon him?" she finally said.


	3. Triumpth of the Lord Impaler

**Triumph of the Lord Impaler**

* * *

 **Wicked Dragon's Hundred Year War**

* * *

They dashed through the ruined city.

Smoke and blood fumed low and stagnant between broken walls, strangling them as they avoided the very people who made the concept of vampires famous. Carmilla was watching like a hawk as Asterios blocked Lord Impaler's with his sheer mass. But Vlad was stronger than his frame would suggested; his spear pierced Asterios' flank and pushed him off balance. The clumsy Berserker tipped over and rolled once on the ground before going still.

She, on reflex, shouted his name and dashed to aid Asterios – but Mash gripped her shoulder like vice. Nevertheless, it was the only slip Vlad III needed to slaughter his enemies. He sliced his razor-like spearhead, aiming at the Master's head.

Mash had none of that.

She pulled at Fujimaru hard, sending her tumbling on the ground. Vlad's spear instead hit Mash's tall shield, leaving no single scratch. She spun the shield and the spear wrenched from Vlad's grasp.

Infuriated, the Lord Impaler grabbed whatever at hand. A branch as long as his forearm broken off of a fallen tree became as dangerous as any spear in his palm, sharpened until it was polished like steel. He threw it almost blindly, but it was still a calculated move. On reflex, Mash dodged the spear, but realized too late that she made the situation worse.

By dodging the spear, she let the only shield that protected the Master fall. The spear passed through the defense with a single whizz, smoothly between her hair, and pierced Fujimaru from her back and through her shoulder. The branch, about 30 cm in length and 5 cm in diameter, pinned her to the ground when she still disoriented from Mash's pull. Despite not hitting anything vital, the injury was serious through sheer hemorrhaging. It all happened entirely on the three seconds spent on her falling face down on the ground, almost like the time itself had slowed down just so she would not die immediately from the accumulated shock.

It felt like forever. Fujimaru didn't realize she was screaming, only later felt her throat had grown so raw that she could barely answer Mash's frantic cries when they retreated to a forestry.

She had never been injured that badly before. In Fuyuki, Mash and Cu Chulainn had protected her so closely that she had never been injured other than simple scratches. Like a spoiled kid who had never knew suffering suddenly turned destitute, only in this situation Fujimaru realized the full implication of 'battle' (Holy Grail War). Everyone can die, she was no exception.

 _I'm going to die, I'm going to die I'm going to die, I'm going to die..._

There was no voice coming out of her mouth but her mind screamed so loudly her temple might burst. Then, again Mash's face came to her line of sight. She was crying.

How embarrassing, she made her kohai cry.

She tried to pull at the stake, but stopped herself. Pulling it out would just make it worse; she would bleed out and then she would be beyond help. But they could not return to Chaldea until the Singularity has been corrected – until then, Dr. Roman could not do anything except watching through the transmission and offering oral instruction for first aid.

Thus, in the entirety of Orleans Singularity, Ritsuka Fujimaru run around the medieval France with a 30 cm long stake lodged in her shoulder.

One week after the Singularity (time pocket) had been shattered, she stood on the summoning circle with the extracted stake clutched in her hands. The blood that stained the wooden spear had mostly flaked off, yet when she rubbed the spear off, her hand would always end up with a lot of rusty brown no matter how many times she rubbed on it. She snorted. Not everyone could boast that they was impaled by Vlad III himself and survived.

Throwing the stake into the circle along with three Quartz. Sung the aria. Watched as the pillar of light slowly dimming.

Only then, she realized that something was wrong. The man inside the summoning circle was not Vlad III. Or at least his bearing wasn't – there was no doubt that, physically, the man was the Lord Impaler. But the way he hunched over, the way he snarled, the way his eyes were more like a wild and bloodthirsty beast, none of them was like the Vlad III she saw in Orleans.

Despite Jeanne Alter had bind him and others in her thrall, their basics were no different than they truly were. Martha might be the most obvious, but the others were too fundamentally the same. That even though he had fallen into the Berserker-chant, he still carried himself like a noble man, a prince (Voivode). He stood straight with his chest pushed high, his shoulders were so wide that his slender limbs did not diminish his intimidating authorative aura. His furrowed frown was as elegant as he was rugged – a frightening man with a frightening infamy, and yet was nevertheless a beautiful one.

The one she saw standing in front of her was nothing more than a chimera she had Cu Chulainn slain and ate like a beast it was. A frightening man with a frightening infamy, who had since let himself go in an aimless bloodshed.

 _What is going on? Did I made mistake?_

She thought hard, trying to recall whatever sign of mishaps. But it seemed Vlad had also noticed his Saint Graph was altered much to his distaste.

He curled his hand into claw. Leonidas who was watched over the summoning session noticed the threatening gesture and readied his shield. But then Vlad relaxed his stance and stood up straight. After seeing that, for some reason, the red-haired girl's spirit immediately brightened like she had recognized him. He tested his voice, his throat strangely parched.

"I'm here at your request." He bellowed, "Are you the Master who shall offer me you blood?"

And just like that, the girl's spirit was flattened. Why would she do that? Wasn't she the one who summoned him as Dracula? He had his moves prepared; if he dashed fast enough he could leap over the distance and tore the girl's throat in one go before the vanguards could react. He did not care whether he would continue on this world or the Holy Grail War, as long as the wretch who stained his name with the legend of the vampire die by his hands.

But the girl's reaction was strange. Like she didn't expect him to be this way. Perhaps it wasn't her attention to summon him as a vampire after all.

So he put aside his plan for now to listen to this girl's explanation.

"I don't understand. I thought I heard you said you hate your vampire reputation."

"Isn't that how you see me? Isn't that how the world see me?"

"I won't pretend that I know about Dracula beyond cultural osmosis at first, but then I met you and I know it isn't true." She fired back heatedly, "You became the last man who resisted Mehmed II the Conqueror of Constantinople and impaled 10,000 Turks on the forest of stake to protect your land. The name Dracula the Bloodsucker was an embellishment of the later generations, just like how Richard the Lionheart became a Muslim boogeyman."

"Nevertheless, this is the state that you summoned me in. Despite your own wish, you summoned me out of your fear for the vampire Dracula, not from your witting knowledge for the Lord Impaler. That is simply the truth."

The girl wilted, saddened and ashamed. She clenched her fist, full of regret. But then, her clenched fist seemed to change its resolve.

"Then, never again. I will never summon another Servant out of my fear." She whispered out of her gritted teeth.

What a simple girl. An earnest, simple girl who knew no guile. What you read from her was what she really was, and what he read from her was a Master that would not betray nor lie to him.

Such purity made him somewhat sad.

* * *

 **Eternal Madness Empire**

* * *

The Master had brought him along with three others to the second Singularity to aid the Whore of Babylon. What a mess, he stood in the same room with the woman who lit Christians as her cities' torches. How he wished to do the same to this decadent harlot.

But it was a bad manner, as the woman was nothing but a courteous host to them. Though it was a difficult and violent time, she was treating the Chaldeans with five star treatment. A large-hearted emperor, with as large an ego, she was an almost obnoxious friendly sort who wouldn't take a humble no from her overwhelmed guests. Each of them was given their own chamber with their own servants, before announcing that Fujimaru would be crowned the viceroy of the territories occupied by the Alliance Empire should she succeed in the war.

Everyone agreed that it isn't going to happen.

The next battle was against Julius Caesar himself, based from the scout report. Attacking Gaul under his command was like the most ironic thing could happen to Caesar, and Lord Impaler was in the mood for some irony. So instead of busying himself with his hobby, he polished his spear until he could see himself on the blade.

A loud, screeching sound heard speeding up into the sky before it exploded into a small white firework from the outside of his window. A signature Chaldea starshell, Fujimaru had taken it along to give signal of possible attack against her in a full-on chaotic battle. An attack just occurred outside of the Rome's walls, Lady Mash should have already engaged the enemies.

He grinned.

Vlad III arrived in the fight with style. Turning his body into black mist, he engulfed the enemy soldiers and drained them out of their blood. Leaving his anemic opponents behind before disarming three spearmen who attempted to jab his back, he clothlined their bodies with the shaft of his own spear. His Master had a policy against human opponents; thou shall not kill. It was a strange policy in a war where her life is very much in danger, but it was something that she was very adamant on.

Monsters, on the other hand...

He jumped and sliced the stinger tail of a chimera. The beast howled, before exhaling a mouthful of poisonous breath. Vlad could feel his eyes tearing up, but Arash – unaffected because of his physical prowess, shot through the poison cloud and nailed the beast right on its forehead. The arrow passed through the skull and it exploded out of the back of its head. The beast was dead before it fell down fully on the ground.

"Are you alright, Lord Vlad?"

Arash asked him, but it sounded so far away. Vlad tested his condition and breathed deeply. His chest immediately seized up.

"It seemed the poison is affecting me more than I would like to care."

He finally admitted. Arash nodded and he helped Vlad to regroup with the other Chaldeans. His Master fussed over him, asking Nero if she had something to neutralize the poison. Chimera was a quite common beast in the period, and so Nero ordered her advisor Seneca to procure some antidote for him. However, despite he was not in any danger, his Master was nevertheless hung around him like a ghost.

"Pest. Do you not value your own life?"

He finally threatened. Fujimaru only tilted her head in a genuine confusion.

"Of course I value my life. But it has anything to do with right now, how?"

He expended every willpower he had to restrain a facepalm. His Master was truly too innocent for her own good. She and Mash were really made for each other.

He sighed before answering, "You don't stay with me wherever whenever. Your worry and attention are misplaced for someone like me."

"If I'm not with you, am I really a good Master?" she said, her voice low. "You, who had forgiven me, are telling me to stop looking out for you."

Suddenly, the mood was visibly going dour. It was heavy. Her gaze was too heavy.

"I can't do that. Not when I'm carrying 47 lives with me. Not when I'm carrying every single lives in Chaldea. Stop telling me to stop taking care of you, I have no purpose here other than being your Master!"

She cried, fat tears rolling down her face. It was an ugly crying, with snots and drools, but her sobbing was barely heard. Like she didn't want anyone else hearing her crying.

"I can't save the Director. I don't know what to do with other Master candidates. I put burdens on you without considering your feeling. I can even send you to your death and you will still forgive me. If I can't be your Master, making sure that you're okay the best I can, then..."

She rubbed her face hard with her sleeves.

"I'm sorry, Lord Vlad. You have to see like this..."

"...It's alright."

He took the time to observe his Master. A young girl, a child, crying that she wasn't good enough. He put his hand on her head, then slowly stroke along the length of her hair. She still didn't register the gesture, or perhaps she simply didn't know how to react.

So he let her fall into his shoulder.

"It's alright. I understand." He said, his voice rumbled soothingly, "No matter what, I – no, we will always accept you, just the way you are. If you make mistake, we will forgive you. If you're virtuous, our tongues will be wet from praising you. If you fall, we will be there to help you stand."

"So don't think of yourself lesser than anyone."

They went silent after quite some time. He didn't even need to look down to notice she had since cried herself to sleep. His hand was in autopilot, stroking her hair.

"I'm not your mistake." He whispered, "You've done nothing wrong. It's not your fault."

He said over and over, hoping that she could hear him in her sleep. A knock was heard from his chamber door.

"Lord Vlad, may I enter?"

It was Mash. Even from behind the door, her intention was clear.

"Yes." He sighed out, and the girl timidly peeked out.

"Lord Vlad, did you see- oh."

"She had a hard time."

"So I see." Mash glanced over their Master, seemingly calculating something. "Perhaps, it will be better if she's staying here..."

"Is there a problem?"

Vlad quirked his eyebrow when Mash stuttered.

"No, it's just... Well, maybe it's a problem. The point is, I'm asking you whether it's okay for her to stay here. At least, until we can solve the 'problem'."

"That would be no problem."

"Thank you," Mash then bowed to him, "Then, I will not bother you anymore."

"Wait."

Mash stopped on her track, crying out a yelp like as small animal. It was almost hard to believe even after all this time that this girl was a Demi-Servant.

"If she return to your side, try make her feel a little."

The girl was sharp. She immediately got the hint. Easing up slightly and gave him a smile, Mash excused herself and closed the door.

He didn't know just what she had talked with the other Servants, but he was sure the reason of why Emperor Nero announced an event in the coliseum five days later was because of Mash. So many materials, so many loots, so many glories. Seeing his Master showered by rose petals, a laurel wreath crowning her head as she smiled a smile of a victor, brought a smile to his face too.

Just this once, he would look over the decadence. Even discipline needed to be rewarded.

* * *

 **Singing Pumpkin Castle Adventure**

* * *

He finished up another stuffed bat. It was put along with the rest of them inside a wicker basket.

"When I'm looking at you like this, I feel like I'm meeting you for the first time."

He raised his eyebrow.

"You've met me for the first time twice already."

"I mean, the first time – first time. In Orleans, I saw you as a prince even more than as a vampire. Despite everything."

"Is that why you're so upset?"

"Pretty much."

He looked over her. She was knitting a scarf, simple enough for a beginner. While the cold temperature of the snowy mountain had no effect on the interior of Chaldea itself, looking outside the window and seeing only unending blizzard really done a number toward everyone's placebo. Despite neither hot nor cold, the staffs were all dressing like they were in winter and always eating hot meals. And his Master was knitting a scarf for everyone, despite Servants do not feel cold.

"I regret summoning you like this." She said as she busied her hands, "But I know it will be difficult to manipulate your Saint Graph without starting from scratch. The you right now will be no more."

"And that's why you will not do that."

"Don't you hate being a vampire?"

"I just need to deal with it like a responsible adult. I will become the Vlad you wished me be, even with this body. Don't you think I'm doing a good job at that?"

"Yes, you are." She laughed. "I just need to never do it again. I'll study about people I will summon, so there will be no people like you anymore."

"Knowledge is power, Master."

They fell into a comfortable silent, with only the sound of their needles hitting each other a rhythmical harmony echoing inside the common room. The sound of festivity was far and in between, but did not matter for the two.

"Vlad," Fujimaru started, "Thank you. For everything."

"If you really want to thank me, then you better pay it in blood... Just kidding. I'll take a home-cooked meal just fine."

"Well, I'm not Emiya, but I'm still pretty. Not to brag, of course"

He laughed, and she contagiously laughed also. She put away her needles and made him a simple cream stew and a cup of coffee. She was right; she wasn't as good as Emiya, but still pretty good nevertheless. He took a spoonful in between a conversation with his Master, talking about nothing. It was peaceful, but this peacefulness was an anomaly within the Holy Grail War. When the entire concept of the war was for Heroic Spirits to kill each other for sake of the wish granting device, this moment where they're living together and spending time in other's hospitality was a strange thing to be had.

He remembered when his previous Master betrayed him. Forced into a body he loathed with every fiber of his being, he wished for his Master's destruction.

But this Master was different. And being at peace was good. But that peace would not last forever, for they were summoned because of a conflict. Soon, they would leave her behind and they would never see her again. And they would forget of ever seeing her, leaving her behind for good just like she would leaving them behind.

"I won't mind an eternity with you. I know it will never become too boring when you're by my side."

It was an impossible wish. And yet, he said it anyway. She laughed it off.

"Really? I think I'm actually pretty boring."

"Not when you seem to attract some of the most colorful individuals."

"Like Liz?"

"Yes, like that child." He nodded, "When you learn to know someone, you'll stop thinking of them as an empty face. You'll learn to love their good, and grew to hate their bad. However, we have to always try love their good, because hatred was such a despicable thing to have toward your friends."

"Then..." Fujimaru hesitated for a moment, "Do you hate Radu?"

He observed her, never letting out any sign of surprise toward the question. It was an honest question, but it was nevertheless a question you asked when you wish to be struck down.

"No." He finally said, "I don't hate him."

"What about Mehmed?"

"I don't hate him either. When I and Radu were imprisoned by the Ottoman to ensure our father's loyalty, the sultan made us Janissary. We trained and studied and communed with the then Prince. I do not hate him as he was my friend."

"You must have been really good friends. But why were you fighting, then?"

"That's because we are kings. We are kings because we have subjects. The subject have needs, and it is the kings' duty to perform it. The subjects wished for us to fight, and so we fought. When it comes to duty, friendship was a folly of naive young men."

"That's so sad."

She did not understand. Of course, she wouldn't. She was born in the era where anyone could be king (leader), chosen by their people. The king (leader) was the people's wish, what the king (leader) said was what people said. When the people was virtuous, the king (leader) would shine bright with everything good and chivalrous. When the people was wicked, then so the king (leader). A personification of the people, molded to fit to the people's desires.

But his kind of king (noble) was not like that. A king (noble) was his own self. His voice would sway the masses, his deeds would bring fame among his people. His people would mold themselves to the king's image. Nevertheless, the king (noble) was just one man, a fish swimming the upstream. They could win against the countless voices of the people, but they often succumbed. Succumbed and drowned in their responsibility, lost their self and sacrificed their personal interest. The path of a king was a road a king had to walk alone. Such was the lonely life of a king.

He didn't hate Radu, he didn't hate Mehmed. They simply spoke the voice of their people (Muslims), just like he spoke the voice of his people (Christians). What happened between them was king's responsibility.

She did not understand, that's why she said it was sad that he and Mehmed fought.

They didn't talk about it again, and after quite some time he forgot about it entirely. At least, until he found a secret passageway inside his Master's room. Not many people knew about it, most likely so she could escape from her stalkers at moment's notice. He knew Emiya knew about it, so did Cursed Arm Hassan, but he didn't know anyone else. Perhaps Mash, perhaps Dr. Roman, perhaps Medea – he knew the passageway from her hush-hush, after all.

It was a staircase toward the underground chamber that was recently dug, not a part of the original Chaldea facility. The stairs were made by chiseling into the Alp while also extending Chaldea's bounded field. Both magecraft and Servant's pure brute strength made it possible for this little space to survive the incineration of human order. A staircase went quite deep into the mountainside, about 10 meters from Chaldea's first floor, before it stopped just before a simple metal door. It wasn't locked. He would need to lecture his Master about security.

He pushed the door and it swung soundlessly. As he took the room's interior, his eyes immediately met about dozens of shelves, pushed deep into the fairly large room's far wall in three columns, filled from shoulder to shoulder with materials and books of various subjects. History, myths, native customs, novels, general science – it was difficult to determine the similarity between these books if one doesn't know what kind of person Ritsuka Fujimaru was.

However, the most eye-catching detail was not the shelves, but a single study desk sitting in the middle of the room. It was a lonely desk on the otherwise cramped place, sitting there by its lonesome. At least, if you ignore the conspicuous items hanging like a clothesline from one desk lamp to another. A golden medal with Nero's face minted on it, a single bear-shaped dumpling made of solid gold, a small stuffed bat, a flame-shaped charm, and various Christmas accessories. It was a hideous decoration, the kind that made the study lost much of its charisma as a place of research and more like a school desk of a teenage student.

It was nevertheless an endearing quirk.

He walked inside, careful not to knock anything down. The place didn't smell like old tomes like so many magus' workshops, but of fresh wood with a hint of mint blown from the chamber's air conditioning. The lighting was reasonably bright from both the desk and the ceiling lamps, and room was painted in the same shade of white like the rest of Chaldea.

He looked over the desk. It was a simple metal desk with a monitor installed on its surface. On its side was a coffee machine, nailed permanently into an open cabinet of the desk, and three mugs. Several tomes stacked on one side of the desk's surface while another was filled with writing implements. The tomes were all leather-bound, made of a haphazard mass of notes written before they were compiled and strapped together with a metal wire. Each of the tomes' titles was stamped into the leather with wax at the spine and the front. They were about the information of the Servants Fujimaru had summoned thus far.

He open a random page and came face to face with hand-written notes about the Bloodaxe King.

 _Today, I met Erik's wife, the Mother of Kings Guunhildr. She was talking through him because his Mad Enhancement made him barely coherent. She was passing through Erik's conversation and yet speaking from Erik's mouth. It's like reading a translation of a language only for another translation to translate from the translation; I think I misunderstand him more than when I talk to him with Mad Enhancement._

 _Anyway, Guunhildr tried to kill me because I separated her from Erik. Since I'm here to write this passage, obviously I survived._

Vlad flipped the book several pages prior the one he had read. It was containing general information for Erik Haraldsson. Things like small summary of his legend, height, weight, and a small comment written as a personal note from Fujimaru. A photo of the Viking king, grinning proudly as he sit on a dead chimera's head, was glued on the page.

The tome was classified based on the Servant Classes, and then the name was alphabetized. He easily found his section. A photo of him triumphantly paraded when competing in the coliseum, showered with rose petals, made prominent at the front page. But his eyes came to the small comment she made about him at the bottom.

 _The grace he had as Lancer has disappeared._

But then, another note was added later under that line.

 _But not all of them are gone forever._

He flipped the page into the end of his section and found himself remembering about that conversation.

 _Vlad talked about his brother Radu the Handsome and his friend Mehmed II the Conqueror. They maybe cannot talk about their affection for each other because of the circumstances, but when the world is in danger, it's the best time to have a heart to heart._

 _I wish to summon Mehmed, so he and Vlad can talk long and a lot just like Nero and Boudicca. It might not completely erase the hostility, but it helps a lot. But I've promised Vlad that I will never summon anyone before I know about him personally, so as long as I haven't met him, I will never summon Mehmed the Conqueror._

 _But I don't worry about it. If they really are friends, then their feeling surely will come across._

What a naive, foolish girl. He could not wait for that time to come.


	4. Revelation from Heaven

**Revelation from Heaven**

* * *

 **Wicked Dragon's Hundred Years War**

* * *

Army of dragons clashed with the French soldiers, but despite the seemingly unfair battle, the soldiers were all bravely stood and fought the beasts. Cannons roared, and the shells crashed into the large bodies of those overgrown lizards. Battle cries erupted from the soldiers' throats as they channeled their valor into their blades and pierced the wyverns' hearts.

At the front, Gilles de Rais was furiously waving a certain battle standard to rally his army.

"Don't let them advance further than this field! French had cried tears of blood and it's our duty as Her sons to answer Her distress!"

He emphasized his shouts by jabbing the standard's pole into the ground and pulling his own sword. A lone dragon had broken through the rank of the soldiers and now was diving with its mouth open at the knight. Gilles saw the large target came and ducked just under its torso, quickly plunging his sword almost to the hilt at the wyvern's belly. With a surprising strength, he flipped over and threw the massive body with his shoulder.

More wyverns came toward him, and Gilles charged forward like a true knight of France.

From afar, a small group of people was watching the battle, not long ago fighting their own battle. It was small compared to the ones that would happen and had happened, but nevertheless it was a fierce battle where lives lost and grief made. Both sides had retreated from the battlefield, both had suffered a crippling casualty. Left behind in the chaos of war was a single battle standard.

Fujimaru pulled it out from the ground and examined it. It was a white flag with golden embodiments, but it had since blemished from its time in the battlefield. Tattered and stained with mud, pole rusting and bending and making sad sounds. It had seen a better day.

"Battle standard of Jeanne d'Arc." Artoria observed, "While this flag had inspired the people of this country, at the time like this, people would dread of seeing it fly. People trust Gilles, not the flag, when he rallied the army."

"But it's strange, isn't it? Why would the Dragon Witch 'Jeanne d'Arc' also seen helping the same people she terrorized? Are there two Jeanne d'Arc?"

"We don't know yet." Mash said, "Anything can happen when the Grail is at work here. The Singularity specifically ensure that the history would gone off the rail and will continue to be so unless we fix the focus point of the time pocket. Jeanne d'Arc had just been executed; it's obvious that the focus point had to be something to do with Jeanne d'Arc."

"Then we just need to make this flag a symbol of hope once again. Whether Jeanne d'Arc is good or evil in this Singularity, there's no denying that she's the one who pulled this country out of its troubled times."

Fujimaru weighted the pole and tried to wave it. She let out a low, awed 'wow' as she let the flag fly and the cloth made a rumbling sound from being blown by the wind.

"I feel like a real commander!"

"Senpai..."

"You're Jeanne d'Arc."

Fujimaru stated, not asking, at the young woman who had come across them. The woman was a radiant presence, but she was also a disoriented stranger to a familiar land. Just from a glance, it was obvious that this woman was a saint but when she was looking confused like that, she was just like an ordinary girl.

At the back, Artoria grumbled something along the line, 'she doesn't really look like me'.

"Ah, yes." Jeanne nodded, slightly relieved. "Are you... perhaps helping these people? I suddenly got summoned and-"

"Yes, we know. We saw something like this happened. The Holy Grail just randomly summoned Servants to fight in the war." Fujimaru said, "We're here to solve the Singularity."

"Thank you very much. More people fighting for the cause is always welcome. Though... I was wondering why the Frenchmen are wary of me."

The Chaldeans were exchanging glances before Fujimaru answered.

"We have suspicion, but it's still not confirmed. Either way, our goal is the same so why don't you come with us. Fighting alongside of Jeanne d'Arc, it will be such an honor."

Fujimaru then took the battle standard strapped on her back and gave it to the saint woman.

"Gilles de Rais left this in the battlefield in hurry, but I think this suits you more."

"Thank you." She took it graciously.

A holographic visual suddenly blinked to live. At the transparent screen, Dr. Roman said something but nothing came out of his mouth. But little by little, his voice came through, a frantic call worriedly echoed from his image.

" _Ritsuka, Mash! Thank goodness."_

"We really need to fix the communication transmission. The connection between the task force and Chaldea might get worse from now."

" _How's your situation there?"_

"We've eliminate a current threat to the populace, but I doubt it's even compared to the bulk of enemy force. Oh, and we met Jeanne d'Arc."

" _Jeanne d'Arc!? Whoa...! She's going to be a really strong ally."_

"Please don't talk like she's not here, Doctor."

" _Ah, it might be the best to establish the Master-Servant connection with allied Servants. That way, you can provide a fast aid with Command Spell if the situation demands it."_

"Understood."

Fujimaru turned toward Jeanne.

"How's that sounded?"

"I have no objection of the relationship." She offered Fujimaru her hand, "I hope we can work together well against this crisis."

Fujimaru accepted it.

She remembered the goodbye. She also remembered the reunion.

She knelt over Mash's shield as the light receded. In front of her, her Master stood. She stood there with her wounds barely healed. She stood there barely out of her hospital gown, bandages peeking under the clothes.

In her hand was a battle standard. When the time came for them to be separated, she gave the standard back to Fujimaru. An unspoken request was exchanged. Understandingly, Fujimaru nodded, and then took away the flag from Jeanne. Her body turned into golden dust, floating like fireflies, as she watched the Chaldeans were taken away by the light pillar shooting from under their feet. She had made true of her promise with this.

Jeanne smiled, almost tearfully.

"Servant Ruler, Jeanne d'Arc. I'm so glad that I can meet you."

* * *

 **Eternal Madness Empire**

* * *

Though the stories of the Roman Emperors were quite... colorful, imagining that she would meet the arguably most infamous of them was not exactly at the highest list. Then again, there were Heroic Spirits that would like to meet their idols and living their childhood dreams. Chevalier d'Eon, for example, was sung the stories of Charlemagne's Twelve Peers by bards and troubadours in their entire life. How the Frankish fought bravely in the doomed battle against the Saracens and how Karl the Great was uniting the fractured French into Holy Roman Empire.

On the other hand, Nero was not her idol. In fact, she was the furthest of people she would like to call her idol. There was no Christian who does not know of the Whore of Babylon, and the impression stuck. Despite meeting the affable woman and how she treated the Chaldeans, she could not stop the slight prejudice levelled against Nero.

Nevertheless, it was easy to ignore the bad, when the good is very much right in front of you. _Nevertheless_ , she still could not partake the decadence of the Roman Empire. The food was too large and the clothes were too small. Everywhere she walked, she always smell the scent of thickly perfumed silks and rose petals and see large statues of the Claudian Dynasty arrogantly posing in their armors and battle raiment, each more expensive than ten years' worth of her entire family's ration.

A simple peasant girl like her was intimidated by all the court graces everyone had to conduct – listening all of her titles every time she walk in a room was a harrowing experience, even if that large, looming presence was her own fame.

If the experience of leading an army was like seeing a giant storm looming from afar, then the price of being celebrated was like being thrown into the middle of the raging storm's path. Thrown around like a ragdoll, powerless against the strength (worship). How could God be able to take this heavy a burden? Expectations kept piling on until no one could ever see yourself under it. How many people remembered her as a simple, though devout, peasant girl?

She disliked Rome for that; their radiance were too opulent for her.

"Can't sleep?"

She whirled around and met a pair of amber eyes peeking from the darkness. Her Master walked up to her, her clothes wrinkled like she just had a fight with someone.

"No, I'm just not used with Rome."

"They're very fussy, aren't they? Don't worry. Tomorrow, we will hit the road again to fight at the front, if that's more of your liking."

"Yes, understood." Jeanne then observed her Master, "Shouldn't you in the bed also?"

"Ah, just a little problem with... a stalker. I'm planning to sneak in Lord Vlad's room, but guess I have some time to kill for now. Walk with me, Jeanne?"

Fujimaru offered her hand, and she graciously accepted. They strolled across the castle walls and watched the city below. Golden lights dotting the city as much as the stars in the sky. Buildings tightly packed against each other, snaking up hills with their white marble walls, and yet the greenery was mostly intact, protecting the city like a natural wall. Fujimaru sat on the wall, legs dangling over the edge.

"A very impressive empire, isn't it?"

Fujimaru said, her voice low. Jeanne shrugged absent-mindedly.

"Yes. It seems every European kingdom wishes to be the Roman Empire. France, Byzantine, Russia. While I don't understand the politics and ambition of the nobles, I understand their fascination about the idea of Roman Empire (united world)."

"Maybe it's better not knowing. There are times where we're happier that way." Her Master glanced at her, "So, how do you compare it to France?"

"It has a different kind of charm on it. More... opulent, so to speak."

"Really? I would say, it's more a rural kind of charm for me."

Jeanne vaguely remembered of the modern world, but then pushed them off as irrelevant. The place she was incarnated was a rural part of Romania, after all. She had never saw glass towers as high as the sky. She had never saw smog so thick, she could not see her own hands. She had never saw people so tightly packed, even in the battlefield, that as far as she could see was human faces – so many that they were nothing but formless, black mass.

Fujimaru mumbled out.

"When I see places like this, I grow to appreciate every single moment of it. Where I was from, I can't even see the stars even when I climbed the highest tower. I can't hear the sound of insects at night. I can't drink directly from the river. I can't meet with so many heroes (stars) more worthy of respect."

Jeanne tried to imagine her Master's life before Chaldea spirited her away. A high-schooler, fairly popular but not the queen bee, boredly looking out of her school window. Carried aimlessly by the stream, day by day waiting for something exciting happen – a person (nobody) whose bravery and virtues Fujimaru has was wasted on should she continued to live like that. She would graduate and worked as some wage slave in some corporation, before she marry a co-worker she just happen to take a love confession of. She would quit her job to be a housewife and then have two children. Then there was nothing else of her life afterward other than worrying about the household's tight budget.

"Do you hate your home, Master?"

"It's not 'hate', but it's not 'like' either. The point is, I love living in Chaldea. It feels like a dream, right? All these heroes, fighting together for the sake of the world, and you can get in the middle of it. It's so exciting, I don't think I understand just what kind of responsibility waiting for me here. The weight of the entire world is on our shoulders, and all I can think of is that I can be a part of this. Not just being a completely ordinary high school student with a completely ordinary life..."

Fujimaru sighed.

"I just... want to be a hero..."

It was a heartfelt confession. But Jeanne could not understand it. Because she wasn't like her Master. Because she had never thought of being a hero. Because she had never dissatisfied with her peasant life, merely picking up her standard because it was the right thing to do.

She had never thought of personal fame nor riches – precisely because of that, she was a saint. So holy, any attempt to corrupt her was fated to fail, only spitting out an inferior copy. But because of her holiness, she could not understand her Master's plight. A virtuous person, a kind Master, but nevertheless a human with faults. Thirsty of glory, greedy of excitements, indulging many sins, yet not despicable.

However, she held her tongue. Because she didn't understand, thus she had no place to lecture Fujimaru. She instead let Fujimaru's words hung on the air, hoping that Fujimaru would soon forget her self-loathing and instead remembering that she was with a friend, just taking a night walk in the city of Rome. A small respite.

* * *

 **Prison Tower's Howling Demon of Vengeance**

* * *

It had been three days since the last Master of Chaldea went into a coma.

No, not coma. It was more like her mind was spirited away from her body, leaving her empty shell to sleep off the apocalypse that was the incineration of human order. Absent-mindedly, she moved Fujimaru's limbs as Dr. Roman had instructed. Sleeping like this would atrophied her muscles and as such, several people (preferably women, of course) would visit her room and take care of her needs.

She had never saw a coma person before, and now she had, she felt just how vulnerable Fujimaru was. Many were worried about the more... obsessed members of the staff, but it had never come to pass. Kiyohime, surprisingly, was docile and playing the role of 'devoted wife' to its purest, sincere sense. However, despite the languidity, people of Chaldea were all anxious. With no one to command the Servants to rayshift into Singularities, their mission was dead on the water. With the appearance of King Solomon as the mastermind of the incineration of human order and the deadline of its completion, there was just no time to stay idle.

She had an inkling of what happened to her Master. The moment their eyes met, her soul was in danger. Such heavy gaze had grinded even Servants' minds down, what would happen if an ordinary human do see it? They had talked about it, of course. When they climbed Ryougi's apartment, they already had a feeling just who was that shadowy figure. But the motivation, they still drew blanks. At least, until Fujimaru fell into a deep sleep.

The first day, Phantom of the Opera towered over her bed, talking to her body. No one could hear what he had said. He did nothing but talking until it was 5 am in the morning, only then he sulked back into the shadow. Or so Emiya had said. Mash was worried, and decided to stay on guard inside the room. But she fell asleep at 3 am, and at that moment Gilles stepped inside.

Everyone was on edge when they found out that Gilles could get inside the Master's room. Understandable, but still having her trusted comrade shunned was hurting Jeanne's feeling a little. But despite everyone's suspicion, he did nothing of that sort. He talked, just like the Phantom, about things. What things, she only heard hush-hush from the staffs. About how Gilles confessing of his sins to the Master's sleeping body. Her mind filled most of the details.

"The moment I heard the Maid of Orleans was executed because of petty political posturing, I lost my faith. Toward humanity, and toward God. If God is so merciful, then why would he do such horrible thing to such devoted a subject. To the very end, Jeanne d'Arc never blamed God for her terrible fate, but I wasn't as holy. Thus, I blamed God, I blamed humanity, I blamed myself, I even blamed Jeanne herself. There was no one I did not blame, and I lost myself in my grief. I had never saw the light ever since. And I care not to seek of it."

With his gnarly fingers, he caressed Fujimaru's face. Fingernail scrapping against her skin, but they left no mark despite their sharpness.

"But you... you let me see the light once more. You reunited me with the holy maiden."

From then, Jeanne had made her conclusion. When she heard that Fergus made his turn in the Master's room, she was trying to get a good sleep. One of the perk of the relationship between Master and Servant was their shared dream. She had never shared it with her Master before, fearing that she had too many to see already. But this time... this time she would not restrain herself anymore. She had made a conclusion that the Servants talking to their Master had somehow talked inside her sleep. Thus, the only thing she could do right now was waiting for her chance.

When she opened her eyes, she was inside a dreary dungeon.

She had experienced prison cell before, but this place was on a different level. Every breath she inhaled was accompanied by the scent of death. A place where you throw people you don't like and left them to rot, where the wardens were sadistic and the inmates were so full of despair. By comparison, the Burgundy's cell was like a luxury suite.

It was clear where she was. There was no Frenchman who did not know about this prison. Just like Alcatraz, just like the Devil's Island, it was a legendary prison from which a Heroic Spirit was born.

A sound of three pair of feet was heard walking down the prison hall. An orange light from a torch was seen trudging down the stone pavement, prying shadow from her surroundings. Accompanied by a pair of white-haired man and woman, Ritsuka Fujimaru looked inside her prison cell.

"Jeanne? Is that you?"

When she woke up from her sleep, it was 1 am. She immediately jumped out of her bed and dashed to her Master's room. Waiting for the automatic sliding door to open, she only saw Mash sleeping on the floor with a mattress spread and Fujimaru's unmoving body. Her heart fell, just a little bit. After all, she knew Fujimaru would not awake anytime soon.

She took a chair and dragged it beside the bed, taking a good care not to scrape the legs as to not disturbing Mash's sleep with the noise.

"Master?"

She tried. No respond, of course. But after meeting her in Chateau d'If, she noticed just how she missed her Master's voice. She wished to hear her answer.

"Everything is... fairly alright, I guess. But it's not the same without you."

She fidgeted, not knowing what to say. Just how the others handled it? Never had she thought talking to an unconscious person would be so hard.

"I hope you can hear me. Because I would like to ask you about many things. About you, about myself, about a lot of thing. When I saw you inside the dream, I wonder what made you think of me like that. In a way, I knew the reason already, but I want to hear it directly from you. Should I be so full of rage for my misfortunes?"

"But it wasn't fair, is it? After all, I've seen a glimpse of your life, just a little. And I've never talked about myself so it's only natural that you might misunderstand me. So, I'm going to introduce myself to you once again."

"My name is Jeanne, but in my childhood my friends called Tart. I was born in Domremy. You knew that, because you had visited the village."

She chuckled to herself, "I wasn't a remarkable girl, if I say so myself. I don't know how to be a knight, that's why I'm a standard bearer, and I'm not good at the frontline. Nevertheless, I still walk among the soldier as a morale support. My voice carried my countrymen through difficult times."

"Of all my comrades, Gilles de Rais was the most remarkable. He's not a born genius, but he was hardworking. And yet, he became a prominent soldier of French. Not using his weakness as an excuse, you're just like him in that regard. I admire you both so much."

Jeanne wrung her skirt. The next part would be very difficult.

"So that's why... I don't want you to misunderstand me like Gilles. I sympathize with the reason why he made my Alter, and I can't condemn his grief that spurred him into doing his crimes, but I would prefer if you don't end up like him. When people don't communicate with their loved ones, no matter how close their relationship, they would still make assumptions. That they don't love them back, that they don't appreciate them. Gilles' fall was my fault too. So..."

Her tongue was tied. Despite talking a lot about it, she still could not say it. Feeling it imprudent, she decided to end it there. Sneakily, she left the room only to meet Amakusa. He gave her that no-good-intention smile of his, and she narrowed her eyes. He fled without saying anything, and Jeanne decided to not pushing the issue.

It was the sixth day of Fujimaru's coma when she woke up staring at a damp ceiling.

"You're here too."

A voice called for her from the other end of her cell, and she didn't have look to know who it was. Amakusa stood from his bunk and walked up to the cell bar, hands clasped.

"I've been here before."

"I see." He said laconically, "That means you still have more things to say."

"I'll talk with her for as long as I like."

"Everyone would like to do just that."

"What do you want to say to her, Amakusa?"

"I wonder..."

"I guess talking to you is just an exercise of futility."

He chuckled a little at, "How harsh of you, Maid of Orleans."

A sound of footsteps was heard from the western wing, a little lonely this time. With a torch in her hand, Fujimaru's shadowed face came to view. Standing in darkness, with a tired face, she was a stereotypical ghostly girl you see in horror movie. Without Mercedes and King of Cavern flanking her sides, she seemed like she would disappear into the darkness if no one keeping watch on her.

"Hi." Fujimaru smiled, trying to push back the visible burden the prison had to her mental health. "I'm just visiting you before the inevitable fight we might have later."

"Does King of Cavern treating you well?"

She could not help but to ask. Fujimaru quirked her eyebrow at her.

"Do you think he's a bad guy, Jeanne?"

"Well..."

"If so, he's doing a bad job at it." She shrugged, "While I'm not surprised that he has something to do with me trapped in here but I will say, without any shred of doubt, that he has my well-being in his mind."

"Master, if you're that trusting, someone might come and take advantage of you."

Jeanne rolled her eyes at Amakusa's advice, knowing perfectly well just who this 'someone' is. But, much to their surprise, Fujimaru just chuckled audaciously at him. With a grin so unlike of her, their Master growled out a whisper.

"You think I don't know that?"

But as quickly as it appeared, that expression subsided into something they recognized. A wide smile, warm and casual, spread.

"If we just talk about it, then it should be alright. Isn't that right, Jeanne?"

She didn't know what to say, but it just spilled out of her mouth anyway. Things that she could not say previously burst out like a broken dam.

In the eighth day at 8 o'clock in the morning, Fujimaru finally woke up from her coma. Mash was crying non-stop for hours, hugging her sempai and not letting go. It was like the burden than weighted the entire Chaldea suddenly lifted and they had a party for the night. Food was abundant and entertainments laid out without end, but she would not have anything else other than her Master's voice.

* * *

 **Mythological North American War**

* * *

Her Master still sulked inside the wagon, while the other Servants in the Chaldean party rode horses. Though it was obvious for a long time, but their Master's absolute incapability to ride a horse was nevertheless still a hilarious inside joke in Chaldea.

Jeanne lagged behind the wagon to at least help entertain her Master. Though the battle against the Celtic Army was exceptionally fierce right now, the journey between towns was pretty boring. American deserts were just like any desert; sand and stones and skeletons with dried air and carrion vultures stalking above their caravans. Not exactly the most exciting place on Earth.

Inside the wagon, Fujimaru absent-mindedly chewed on a dried jerky Billy had gave her. Because of the nature of Chaldea, the ideal foodstuffs for their ration are those that can be preserved almost indefinitely. Canned food became a common staples, and there were several ways people react to this significant decrease in food variety. Some gorging themselves with fresh foods and vegetables immediately when they have access to the markets in Singularities. Some, like Fujimaru, grew a taste for salted meat and pickled fruit. She especially liked roasted chimeras ever since Cu Chulainn hunted her one.

"Cooping yourself inside the wagon isn't good for your health, Master."

She tried to prod her Master. Fujimaru gave her a stink eye.

"And fighting in Grail War is?"

Jeanne chuckled, "Perhaps not."

"I want to ride a horse." Fujimaru whined. "I don't want you to carry me like some sheltered princess."

"Unfortunately, we don't really have much choice here."

"I'll ask da Vinci to make me a motorcycle. I can ride a bike, at least."

"If I have to choose, then riding a bike might not be a bad idea."

"Right?"

"Of course," Jeanne immediately cut her off, "It's not like we can ask da Vinci to make something on a whim. There are things like resource management that we have to think about."

"Jeanne, you killjoy. Can't a girl dream of riding a huge bike without you reminding me about over-budgeting?" Fujimaru said, a little upset, a little teasing. Jeanne grinned apologetically.

"I'm sorry."

Fujimaru was silent for a moment, before she said, "If da Vinci made me a bike, how about we take a ride together."

Jeanne blushed slightly at the offer.

"Be careful when talking about things like that, Master. Jealousy is a very real problem in Chaldea."

"Hm? Are you afraid of angering someone?"

Jeanne stared incredulously, but the way Fujimaru just casually said it made her think twice. _Am I afraid?_ The answer should be a no. Not afraid, to be exact. More like hesitant.

But it wasn't the point. Fujimaru knew just what kind of Servants under her employ – asking whether one of those obsessed, jealous-prone, affection-thirsty scared her off from ever coming close to her Master...

"No."

"I'm glad then."

Fujimaru smiled until it was reaching her half-lidded eyes. Her lips slightly parted to show her teeth. An innocent look that was also alluring. Jeanne cursed whoever taught her Master.

"I-It's not like I hate any of the other Servants. And you should too. Not hating the Servants, I mean."

"You don't have to worry about that."

"Why are we having this conversation again?"

"What? You don't like talking nonsense with me?"

Jeanne gave her Master an annoyed look. Fujimaru's teasing face softened.

"Honest, I really like talking with you."

"... yes, so am I. I really like talking with you."

"Okay then." Fujimaru hummed, thinking out loud. "I know! Tell me what you think about God."

"God?"

At first, she was confused but she immediately understood what Fujimaru meant. At the Moon Festival, the Moon Goddess herself was successfully summoned even through a roundabout way. But even before that, there were Heroic Spirits that claimed descend from divinity that was not of Christian God. Even in this land that would become a great nation, sons of the gods from one of the oldest pantheon ever existed in the world had made themselves known. If there were so many gods, why her faith in her God is still unwavering?

"Personally, I believe in the interpretation that people interpret God in different ways. God is one, but how people think of God make the segregation between their religions. Devotion toward God always has the same conclusion – good moral. Even if King Gilgamesh defied the Sumerian Gods, in a way, he's a devout too because he laid the foundation of a great civilization and bring order to mankind."

"I see..."

She was puzzled at the question, especially since she knew her Master wasn't a particularly religious person. But later she found out why she asked that question. In fact, she now found out why her Master had a slight change in point of view ever since she fell into a deep sleep in Chateau d'If. No, it was even far more back then when Chaldea was trapped inside that apartment complex.

Ryougi was a woman who had avoid the incineration of Human Order by falling into a deep sleep. How that could be a method to be incarnated into a Saint Graph, no one knows. But in rare occasions, she would seem to turn into a different person. An airy, almost capricious person who would look into the struggle of the Chaldeans as amusing – a stark contrast with Ryougi's usual stand-offishness.

She had talked about the practice her family had; that every children in her clan had an affinity to develop split personality. But she also claimed that she had lost her 'twin' in an accident. If so, then who is that woman who would walk in Ryougi's skin?

Jeanne met her when she was taking a break from training. Though the Heroic Spirits' powers were spiritual in nature and would never diminish from disuse, having a good sweat was never a bad thing. She was watching Emiya and Cu Chulainnn had their usual (manly) spat when Ryougi glided into a spot beside her. The Chaldeans were already used with Ryougi's shift of personality, and everyone could already guess which Ryougi was in control. Ryougi was, for a lack of better description, a manly woman – you could immediately guess it from the way she walked. But her other personality was as feminine as she could get. Even disregarding her manners, one glance to her face was enough to see that almost absent-minded smile.

Indeed, Jeanne was staring at that smiling face as their eyes met.

"Pardon me."

And so she left as fast as she came. But even just one moment, when their eyes met, it was like the time had stopped and Jeanne was lost inside those eyes. Ryougi's eyes, dipping in and out of color spectrums and constantly changing, was strangely like a familiar view for her. In that single moment, Jeanne was reminded of the time when she heard God's voice.

Domremy was a small village. In the outskirt of the village was a field where farmers were working which, at harvest time, golden wheat was visible as far as she could see. She often walked among these tall golden miniature forest and thought to herself. The war was slowly closing by her home. When English soldiers are walking on this field, there would be no more Domremy. Every day, she would pray to God so He would spare her family and friends.

One day, God spoke back, and the rest was history.

She had never questioned her faith, and she would not start to question it now. However, it would be a lie if she didn't have at least a small curiosity. 'I want to see my God,' she would think. I want to thank Him properly, in front of His face.

When Jeanne stared at Ryougi's eyes, it was like she had met God.

And she knew that her Master was also thinking the same thing when she first met Ryougi (「 」).

* * *

Author Note:

It seems you dear readers are impatient to see your favorite character, but unfortunately I will not write the chapters based on request. Instead, I'm writing the chapters based on the release of the Bond CE. The reason is so the characters have several events and storylines to develop their relationship with Fujimaru and the other Chaldean Servants to tell the story of. So, those who request the chapter for Iskandar and Wu Zetian, sorry but it will take a while to get there. I promise to write faster from now that I have a lot of free time at the moment.

Also, I'm not writing the alternate version of a character as the base Servants are numerous enough as they were. As of Ereshkigal, there are 141 different Servants already. So Alters, Lilies, Prototypes, swimsuits, alternate classes, and Carmilla will never have their own chapter, but there will be allusions from their corresponding base form. So, I'm sorry for those who are disappointed with the arrangement.


End file.
